


Change on the Rise

by aAnemone



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Sorry, Rough Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23839021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aAnemone/pseuds/aAnemone
Summary: They had the care, the desire, the lust... and yet, it was all inside a grey and comfortable area they didn't know what to do with.We're crew, remember?
Relationships: The Drifter/Female Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	Change on the Rise

**Author's Note:**

> So... Hi. I'm new in town. This is my first work posted here, really don't know what to say. Sorry in advance...
> 
> Been back to Destiny recently and, boy, this ship sailed fast!
> 
> English is not my main language, sorry about any mistakes.  
> I hope you enjoy :)

"Drifter, what the fuck?"

She stormed the Annex, rage emanating through her every step down the stairs. Void energy threatening to escape her fingers. How could _this_ happen under her nose?

A Guardian was killed today during a Gambit Prime match. Enemy team got invaded, five kills reaped. Four Guardians and a Ghost. She knew this was on purpose, no one shoots a Guardian's Ghost for no reason, and she didn’t know the reason, hell she didn’t even know who pulled the shot. Things could go south really quick from now on, first it was on Gambit, the Vanguard had explicits mixed opinions about the activity; second because it was _her_ team member that pulled the trigger; third because The Drifter was making little of the situation. Oddly enough she was there now at full warlock rage to make him see the magnitude of the problem and how this could affect him (and not in a "go back to host your slaughterhouse at a dirty corner of the tower" way), she was truly worried about him, they were starting to build trust, he said that himself when she ran EDZ looking for those tapes, and she would hate to see him get in trouble after she just started to scratch the surface.

"Don't start it hotshot, y'all signed the contract. Y'all knew this could happen."

His unworried tone was not helping her mood at all. The dead Guardian was a rookie, a new light, attracted to Gambit by a promise of easy bounties and easy, bureaucracy-free, glimmer. _You bank those motes and I'll pay you good, sister._ Those exact words were her invitation, along with praise and mockery about her Guardian status. He was a smooth talker, his words meant a whole spectrum of possibilities from past, present or future. Measure twice, cut once if you're careful, and you would still probably cut where he wanted you to.

"Besides, 's not the first time it happened, hell it won't be the last! It was the first time with _you_ on board."

He was mad, she dared to say even worried. He never faced her, was busy with something over his desk, dropping and grabbing random weapons and light-knows-what parts for whatever he was building. His agitated hands hit a helmet full of his green dog-tags, spreading them all over the floor. For a long while the metallic sound of the collapsed coins were all over the place, she only looked at his back, his head was down. After a long, tired sight he stiffed his posture, finally turning to face her.

“So, sister, what’s the matter?” His voice was back at his normal sassy tone, but she knew better. “Afraid the Vanguard’s gonna crash my party? ‘Cause I’m in this business for a looong time to know my ways.” His words were harsh and his lips had an out of place smirk. A facade.

“Shut up.” She finally said something, regaining her composure, feeling the void anger leave her nerves slowly. “I know they can’t do nothing to you without interfering with Shaxx’s stuff, now that you’re _almost_ official business.” She waved a hand dismissing the thought. “But you could be more careful, you know, now tha-”

“Now that the Savior of the Traveler is meddling with my business?”

His eyes were burning, a fast comeback filled with mockery for her achievements, he wasn’t going to back down, he was angry. Things went out of control. True, he knew this could happen, but it was a long time since it had, and for that same long time he was in control of everything. He was not angry because that Guardian died from whatever quarrel he had with someone, he was angry that he did not see that coming and now had to listen to _this_ Guardian lecture him about this same thing. For all his wisdom it was almost funny, now that she had proven to tolerate him for whatever reason, she started to worry about this kind of thing. Almost comical. Her ironic laugh pushed him away from his thoughts.

“No you stupid fuck!” She got one incredulous step over. “Now that you’re kicking this whole thing for almost every wanna be Guardian!” She slammed a fist on the desk, making a small purple blast and throwing the remaining green dog-tags on the floor. “Zavala would be _SO HAPPY_ to come for you and stop all this.”

Ah… There it was, afraid the uptight Titan would cease her fun with his protocols and bureaucracy.

“He can’t touch me.” He said with a smirk, partially offended. She let out another ironic laugh.

“And you think I don’t know that?” She looked at him like she was looking at a rookie. She knew this would piss him off, but was worthy it since his stubbornness. “I’m trying to avoid unnecessary confront where I’ll be forced to pick a side.” She snapped, he made her choose a side some time ago and she chose his. That gave her plenty of rights to worry about him. “And yes, my neck is on the line too, what about it? Your whole life was about you saving your own neck, you can’t judge me.”

Low, low blow. She would've felt guilty if it was any other person, but being who he is, it was necessary. That was the only way to shut him up and make him see she meant business. He looked at her, speechless for more seconds than necessary, deciding if he would get angry or not about this. He was offended, of course, but could he blame her? He said to her, and everyone that partook in Gambit that he was a lone wolf, a sole survivor. He sighed again, a long tired sight announcing defeat, he lifted his arms and shrugged, looking at her and smiling carefreely.

“Okay, sister, I’m sorry, let the whole thing get to me.” He looked at the floor, where the green plates were scattered all over and crouched, starting to collecting the closests ones. “What do you mean your neck is on the line too, did you vouch for me or some shit? ‘Cause imma tell ya, it’s stupid-” He pointed a green tag at her with a serious expression. She was quick to interrupt.

“Of course it is!" She watched his hand drop and a playful smile shape his lips. "Shady business with a shady _rogue_ lightbearer who I knew nothing about until some moons ago? It’s beyond stupid.” She chuckled and crouched to help him get the tags.

“Ha! You get the deal, hotshot!

 _Hotshot_ … He was calming down. She couldn't decide if she knew him, a least a little, because she was a good observer, of if she knew what he let her see. She could almost tell his moods swings, when they happened, by his voice and his banters, he never did anything to show her wrong over that, but never confirmed it also. After some seconds on silence, gathering things and putting them in place, she continued.

“No, I did not vouch for you or some shit." She leaned against the same rail he used to stand near when talking to all the Guardians, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know the Vanguard, mostly Zavala, used to come to me when they needed info about Gambit." He mirrored her, leaning against the desk in front of her. "For some time I was simple and honest, but after I felt like spying and not getting paid to do it, I stopped giving details, mostly only showed them the bounties, and then Aunor contacted me, contacted them and here we are." She motioned vaguely at the big bank for the Motes of Dark beside them. " We know The Vanguard doesn't trust you, but they ignored Aunor's letters, allowing you to stay "open"" She motioned the double marks. "They believe they are keeping Gambit in check acknowledging it."

She smiled briefly, she didn't believe that at all. If they had at least a little control over this, they would never let him run it. He never let his purpose for the activity clear, never said to anyone how he controlled and decided where to go and who to fight, never said anything about his precious green tags he had so many, and specially, never said what he did to the dead. She thought if she kicked around for some time she could hear some, over selfishly curiosity only, to get to know him better.

The air was heavy after her comment, so she decided to soften up a little.

"Aaand everyone around me knows that I spend more time here than the healthier amount. If they suddenly make you say _bye-bye_ , people would notice, the other regulars would question and it’ll be bad for their image, got it?" She playfully winked at him.

He looked at his Motes' bank, shooking his head and laughing a delicious true laugh. The Vanguard thinking they had him in check? Thinking they were doing him a favor by letting him stay at the Annex? Now _that_ was really funny.

“Kid, that's a good story there." He started looking back at her, very amused. "Never realized I had a poster girl tho." He framed her between his fingers making a rectangular shape. It was her time to laugh.

“You have. And I’m not even getting paid for this. I just plain like you- HERE, _I likehere!_ "

He noticed. She knew he did. Her eyes opened wide desperately, and as much as she thought she was subtle in correcting herself, she almost but screamed the end. The moment she saw a wicked grin on his lips, she knew it was beyond repair. She knew he noticed, but not how much he did; her dilated pupils, the way she held a breath, how her lips tightened together like holding a thought, when she slightly clenched her fist… He noticed all her little tweaks, and they proved she would be willing to have him if he took the leap.

A chuckle echoed in his chest, so many possibilities… He could jump to her and trap her body against the rails, he could simply stretch his hand and pull her to him, her response would be delightful nonetheless, but he wanted her needing, craving him. So he would melt her with words and fill her thoughts. He was amused by that little game, it was a while since he gave him the possibility to think about this kind of thing. Oh! The things he could do to her…

"Think I'll need to find a way to pay you proper then." He said, absently scratching his beard. "I could take you to dinner hm? Y'know, I'm always hungry..." She couldn't tell if it was on purpose or not, but his eyes were intense. Her throat was getting dry and she swallowed. "So it won't be a waste." He blinked at her.

"Y-yeah…" Shit! Why was she stuttering? _Get a hold of yourself!_ She cleared her throat and built a smart smile. "As long you're paying. Y'see, my career as a _poster girl_ is not earning too much Glimmer…" She patted her empty side pocket.

"It's a date then, hotshot."

She waved him goodbye with flustered cheeks. Like a _fucking_ teenager.

-x-

The next weeks were a slow dance, they kept their business as usual and their friendly faces, but things were escalating at a delicious peace. Their playful banter now had some malicious comments about each other's performances and some body parts. When they - mostly Drifter, felt comfortable enough, he started to pull her comms into private to explicitly praise her about her progress while in Gambit.

"I can see your fine ass working beautifully to get all those motes, keep them moving, hotshot, I have a nice view from here." He said once, while she ducked to get a mote under a console. She chuckled softly and swayed her hips just a little more. _"How's that for the view huh?"_ She asked and got a whistle in response. "Damn, keep up like this and I'll be tempted to come up with a special round." He heard her chuckle. _"No, you won't. Call out the next drop, creep."_ His voice was dark and serious. "Never said what kind of round." And his comm was back to open, announcing the next drop. She stopped for a second longer, a smile taking her lips. If that's how he wanted to play…

If she was feeling like a teenager in heat, it was because of him. If she thought of using a pretty shitty armour just because it might give him ideas, it was because of their _game_. She couldn't pull him to private comms to tease him, but she could do it while he watched her. Grabbing unnecessary Motes and ammo under tight places just so he could _see what he could not touch_ , dancing around with her fireteam while they waited the initial transmat, acknowledging his quick glances while he worked his magic to announce the match… And some little other's things that was natural for her, but sent a shiver to all his right places: when she put her hair behind her ear before putting on the helmet, the way she frowned just before a nod and her laugh. Damn he adored the sound of it, how she carefreely placed a hand over her chest while doing it and how it was always a true, pure laugh. He thought of her in more ways than he was expecting, and found himself aching for her company.

They went on with their game, he shamelessly dirty talking to her while on match as she tried to answer away from her fireteam, which was a pretty difficult task. Drifter was not used to pull long private comms during matches, specially not ones someone needs to answer with a dirty comeback and their little banter could be easily found out. One day it was.

Gambit Prime match. Full Legendary Collector armour and a pretty Riskrunner to make the Motes rain from all those Fallen. It was her third Giant blocker and her team was singing the victory. Drifter decided to play his game again and pulled her private comm.

He greeted her with a long whistle. "Damn hotshot, you're carrying this one! Drop by later and I'll add a massage to your payment. A _real good_ one. In all the right places." He added, lust dripping from every word.

"Hm… I might need a massage, yes." She answered while hovering to the center of the arena to drop another blocker, this time a large one and summon the Primeval. "My body is aching _everywhere_." She passed the Titan on her team and gave him a quick salutation. He followed her drop and go for the Envoys. "Some skilled fingers over me would be a nice change." She finished, hearing a chuckle from his side.

Drifter announced an invasion, she pulled her Tractor Cannon and scanned the area on her radar to find the intruder. She was too slow, the invader had a nice view and a Whisper of the Void aimed directly at her. The shot was clean and she found herself in the dark real quick. Drifter had just congratulated the shooter when he saw him aim again at her Ghost. "You're going down for real, bitch."

If he said he didn't panicked a little he would be lying. He pressed some hurried buttons and pulled the invader out. "Kid, that was a mistake." It has been a long time since he needed to get that serious tone out. "Me and you, we gonna chat reeal soon."

When she was back on the field, work the Primeval was quick business and soon enough they had Drifter's voice announcing the winner. They were transmated back to the Derelict, and suddenly her team's Titan approached her.

"Heard about you asking for a good massage after this. I can make my fingers ease your whole body, beautiful." She looked at his tall, big figure and dismissed him saying that it wasn't for him. He got closer and placed an arm around her shoulder. "No need to pretend to be difficult now. Let's go to my dorm, I can make you feel _real good_." She groaned annoyed and rolled her eyes, her mouth opened to say something but someone was quicker.

"Hey hotshot." She saw Drifter leaning back against the door at the end of the transmat room, playing with his green coin between fingers. "Want to change my nice reward for big shoulders over there?" She chuckled. "Y'see, my _massage_ room is all but ready for you." He tossed the coin and it disappeared right after catching it, he offered the same hand at her. Meanwhile the Titan looked from her to him and she could paint his incredulous face. She graciously left his forced embrace and with a mischievous grin waved goodbye, accepting Drifter's hand and pulling him towards the Derelict maze, without really knowing where to go.

"I appreciate the help with big shoulders over there. I was really not in the mood to convince him out of his ideas _what-_ "

He pulled her to a corner, amicable face off, leading her to Derelict's video room, where, she guessed, he watched all the matches. Without a word he sat her down in the only chair in the room and pressed some buttons to play a record. The exact moment he pulled her wanna be killer out of the invasion.

"It felt like the right thing to do." He said in a low, cracked voice. "I cut his payment and kicked his ass from Gambit."

"I-" She started but could not form words. "Thank you." She offered poorly. She was truly thankful, but felt like it needed more.

"I told ya I had your back." He tried to place his smirk back on, but, for the first time, if felt weird. "I couldn't avoid rookie back then, but you…" He dropped the words, they felt extra and unnecessary.

Matter of fact, they did not expected any situation like that ever, at least not over Gambit. Life and death situations where Ghaul-wannabes would threat the balance of things, ok, but die over a… game? Not counted for. True, in their first contact, Drifter did tell her about possible deaths, but he got everything so much in control that they never accounted the possibility. It was weird, she was in that same situation multiple times, aboard Leviathan, exploring the Piramideon, and a long list of other places, but while in Gambit she felt safe, even with another Guardian shooting at her face.

The silence seemed to be the only thing they needed. She played the record once more, paying special attention to his words, the tone of his voice, she never heard him that serious, it sounded like somebody else. She held her breath trying to prevent the wrong thought and ruin the situation, the buzz near her ear helped a lot. Her Ghost appeared, it's blue eye moved from the footage, to the Guardian and to Drifter, which ignored the drone completely.

"Thank you, Drifter."

"It wasn't for you, don't get your hopes up." He said, disdain spat for the shell, the tool.

"I don't care." It purposely paused, letting the words sink. "You saved her from something I could not have. I am still grateful."

"Shove it, Ghost." He waved his hand dismissing it.

The Ghost looked at it's Guardian who nodded with a sympathetic smile, it let out a sigh and disappeared. She stood up, same smile on her lips and walked to him, touching one side of his face and kissing his cheek on the other.

"Just take the compliment. You know he is right." She stepped back and met his blue eyes, enigmatic enough for her to want to wrap herself in his mysteries. "Thanks for having my back."

She left. He punched the wall, not knowing what feeling to blame for his actions. He looked at the console, pressed some buttons and the footage was erased. He thought of punching it too but instead touched his cheek where she kissed. Ah! He knew what to blame.

-x-

Really nothing had changed since the accident, "horny banter" was still on, random visits were still happening, Gambit matches were still the same pattern. Drifter acted like he couldn't care less about the whole thing, which was actually his normal self, and since he was good, she was good. But her heart raced. She wanted him, she was curious to see what he would do to her if they get to do it. She was eager to hear his voice dark and lustful, how much of his Darkness her Light could cover while her mind was somewhere else. At the same time, she could plainly see her asking him for the real thing, he laughing at her face saying it was just for fun and calling her _sister_. So she kept her silence.

"Really Guardian, noodles? Don't they have real food in your Academy?" He slided next to her on the bench.

"I don't remember judging your eating habits, punk." She lightly punched his shoulder. "Want one?"

"Have I ever said no to food?" She waved at the cook, ordering another one like hers. "Heh, and I should be the one treatin' you dinner, hotshot."

"Just take me to a really nice place."

"Ugh! Need to scratch noodles off my list then." He chuckled, soon followed by her.

Drifter once said to her that he didn't like wandering around the Tower, especially during the day. Too many fans, he said, he was a guy used to pay people to get his shit, be it food or Motes of Dark. Now here he was, making faces and eating noodles, he didn't like it buy hey, food is food, his principles forbid him of denying it.

"Day off?" She asked without looking away from the bowl.

"Nah." He answered, mouth full. "Just breathing new air. Starting to feel part of the decoration down there." She laughed, almost choking with the food. He patted her back, laughing at her. "C'mon don't you dare die over this!"

"Fuck off, Drifter." She raised him a finger, still laughing.

"Wouldn't you like that..." He said, back to his food.

She almost choked again, partly surprised, party amused and inevitably looked around. People were staring, and not because she was almost dying, Drifter wasn't a regular sight there, he wasn't a regular sight anywhere actually, and they were too close, too comfortable, too friendly.

He noticed her looking around, noticed her worried expression, her sigh when she turned back to her food. He couldn't give two shits about all those people, it was a long, long time ago since he tried to be in everyone's good graces. She needed to understand that she would be seen as a traitor of the Vanguard, a rotten seed or simply a fool who was persuaded by things she could not fully understand if she decided to stick around him. Whichever the case, he was going to take the blame, and he was truly okay with that, he had worse over his old bones, it was a nice change.

"Thanks for the lunch, hotshot." He said, placing his hands together in front of the plate. Cute. "Be seeing ya tonight?"

"I don't know really, Zavala is on my ear about some fallen at EDZ and got me worried about Devrim. I might check up on him tonight."

"Your loss, kid." He got closer to her ear. "I'll be missing that ass on my cameras." He whispered and turned to leave. "Don't forget about ol' Drifter." He waved goodbye in his way out.

She chuckled and finished her food.

-x-

None of them knew what each other's friendship meant (it's that what they called it nowadays right? When someone has your back just for the sake of it?) and none of them realised how they started getting closer by the day. The Drifter found a trustful crew member who didn't judge him for his deeds, The Guardian found someone who looked at her for her abilities, not her titles. They had the kind of comfort that made them look for the other, the silent eyes, the playful tone, the absence of judgment - they did what they needed to do because of their own reasons, and if they thought the other needed know, they would be the ones telling the tale. It was a most welcome company, they demanded nothing from the other, and maybe that's what kept them from figuring themselves out.

They were cautious around each other nonetheless, Dirfter knew better than to blabber and she knew better than take his words as gospel. They knew only what they wanted the other to know. He knew about her disapproval of the Vanguard as it was now because it was the reason of her constant anger, she knew about his quarrel with The Man With the Golden Gun because he enlisted her for that and she knew about The Nine and their deal because The Emissary forced him to explain when she showed her that one flashback. He didn't know the same man he quarreled with contacted her. She didn't know his reasons or intentions with Gambit.

They were getting into a grey area that was quickly growing out of control. Lust. It started all right, the curiosity, the teasing, the fantasy... But now they had need and desire, and it was getting harder to cope with and contain. She found herself thinking of the things she wanted him to do _with_ her, shaping thoughts into a distorted reality while trying to please herself alone. He played with the risks of being seen while accompanying her on the matches, mind drifting off, lusting to own her. Both so close and yet so far.

And they drifted towards each other ever more.

-x-

"Mark me surprised, he actually left you a message this time." Her Ghost hovered around her head, waiting for her to grab her mug of coffee and sit on the couch. When she was comfortable enough, he projected the received text message.

Instead of actual text, the Ghost projected an image of Drifter, laid back in a chair, behind a desk decorated with a mess of scrap junk (she couldn't call it otherwise), apparently working on something.

"Hey! It actually worked!!" He cheered for no one. "How ya livin', hotshot?"

"Drifter! _What the fuck?_ " She raged, sitting straight in a matter of seconds and looking at her Ghost. "Tell me you hacked my Ghost's shell. I'll drop by to beat your ass in a sec." She heard him chuckle.

She was really worried, her Ghost was simply hovering there, projecting the image of the smug lightbearer. He approached the camera, his Ghost's eye she presumed, and smiled widely.

"Relax, your tool is fine. Mine's just the same. I'm just testing a little something here." She leaned back on the couch, furious. "Well, well, well… What do we have here?"

He pressed some buttons somewhere and she saw her Ghost move, right, up, center again. She heard him curse and couldn't stop laughing, it was a funny scenario: Drifter having problems with technology. He whistled and she realised her Ghost was now looking down, aiming at her legs. She truly never considered her outfit, a black plain tank top and her panties, also black (she was a simple girl), it was the style she used at home anytime. Faking indignation she grabbed her Ghost and placed it back at her face height.

"Hey! Eyes up here, punk! You don't get to see nothing until I get dinner time." She showed him a finger and they were both laughing. He raised his hands in defeat.

"Fair enough." He was back at his chair. "Y'know, I was actually just going to text ya: Hey! it's your favorite Drifter, or some shit." He blabbered. "But testing this little thing here paid off nicely." She saw his hand go down to his pants and rub there nicely, he wasn't trying to hide his excitement. She tensed up, feeling a warmth over her lower body. "Mind dropping by sometime? I have a trinket for ya." He winked. "Call me old fashioned but I prefer to deliver things personally. Be seein' ya!"

He was off. She bit her lower lip, her hand absently touching her underwear. She could have him now if she appeared in the Derelict… Her Ghost buzzed and she broke the thought, looking at the drone slowly regain its functions.

"Ugh! What happened?" Ghost shuddered and looked around, good still at their apartment. It looked at the Guardian, her body temperature was high, her cheeks flustered and there was _something_ more, but it couldn't define. "Drifter did something to me? I felt like when Sagira took control…"

"Something like that, yeah." She answered, half absent minded.

"That bastard! If he want to experiment on his Ghost that's not my problem - doesn't mean I like it, but if he starts messing with other Ghosts, _me_ , I'll let him have a piece of my mind!"

She payed attention to half of it, getting up, throwing the cold coffee down the sink (she was fully awake now, thank you very much) and leaning against the countertop. She could go now, make him throw his agenda out of the window and make up for all the teasing. She could -

"Guardian, are you ok?" The Ghost hovered to her, worried. "Your body is giving me some messed up readings. What you and Drifter talked about?" She was about to dismiss the drone and said it was nothing, but damn scanners, it took a second for him to figure out. "Oh... OH! By the Traveler, you _want_ him!" She smiled guiltily and nodded a yes. "Guardian I… don't want to pry but… are you sure? You _know_ who he is… He has no reputation."

"Thank God I don't want to fuck him because of that!" She snapped and facepalmed. "Shit, sorry. He does have a reputation, but I don't care about that. As if I wasn't attracted to him enough just because of _him_ , now I want…" She looked at the Ghost, not wanting to finish that. "You don't need to know what will happen when I drop by his ship. You can transmat me there and go… somewhere else."

"That's not the point." The Ghost shook in denial. "I already hear people talking things just because you two spend quite the time together. If something comes out…"

"Fuck it! I'm not marrying the guy! I don't give a shit about whatever people talk, and whomever I keep company, that's my business!" She exploded, always the hot head." Zavala can shove it, the Tower can shove it, you can shove it if it's not up to your _hero_ standards!"

The Ghost could be angry and offended by her words, but he really knew her, she was explosive like that, destructive almost as she would always say the harshest things when angry. She was always like that, and it got worse after Cayde's death and her confrontation with The Vanguard. She didn't expected anyone's approval for anything, she had the abilities to make things by herself and to seek outside willing help. She was sick of the _Hero of the Red War_ title, she just wanted to be recognized by her skills, her _amazing_ skills. Drifter did just that, true he mocked her titles whenever he could, but he wasn't a man of titles, he had some he liked to forget himself, he needed her because she _was_ good, not because she _did_ good.

"I get that." The Ghost said in a gentle tone. "Just… be careful, he is way more than he shows. Dangerous even."

She smiled gently, maybe that's why she was so attracted to him, it had a totally different feeling from being with the Vanguard, all the rules, postures and protocols. Drifter had none of that, he wanted her wild, he would let her decide and pay the price if needed, he would acknowledge her disgust of things as an opinion and do whatever he wanted with that, she would question his methods and do things her way, and as long as the job was done, they were fine.

"I'm counting on that."

-x-

Drifter was arranging some of his salvages from yesterday's Gambit, for his disappointment, it was almost all trash. That was a slow match, both teams new to Gambit, they lost a lot of Motes, filling just the bare necessary for the Primeval. He needed to poke around the Vanguard's deliveries again, one Bank needed maintenance and his own ship needed some repairs. When he was done, a large pile of junk was gathered, he sighed and motioned to his Ghost to transmat that. The red eyed drone did as asked and disappeared while he gathered some parts and tools and went to fix minorities on his ship.

It was late when she arrived, just after a strike. She had too much adrenaline on her body, so she patrolled EDZ and threw herself in a Nightfall, which took more time than she predicted. None of that helped for now. She had more sensations than she could name, her Void energy were all messed up and she felt a complete fool to expect something.

Her transmat were at the same wide room where the portal to the Reckoning was stationed, as always the ship was quiet, the only difference was that the portal did not activate when she got close. No deal with The Nine today. She heard a curse followed by something falling on the metal floor and giggled, she followed the trail of curses and got to a storage room, filled with crates and tools and wires. It was bigger than she thought, as she walked the only path between the crates, arriving at a very small adjacent room where a kind of workstation was set. There she saw his silhouette and pulled one last breath to approach him. She thought of jumping him, it appeared he was not warned of her presence, his supposed reaction would be a delight: pinning herself against the crates, hunger eyes, maybe a gun pointed at her, maybe a grunt. And then... _This is fucking stupid!_

As she got close she saw more than she could've ever bargained for. His big shoulder pads, his belt and his _gi_ were all gone, he had a simple tank top, his gloves and was properly dressed waist below. He was strong under all those layers of clothes, his shirt tight in all the right places, this was the most display of skin he ever showed, not that it was for public, and it made something feel good within her.

"Trying to sneak me, Guardian?" He said looking at her over the shoulder, crouched near an open hatch of wires.

"If you know I'm here then I'm not sneaking, genius." He chuckled and continued with his work. After long seconds of silence, just looking at his delightful arms, she braced reality. "I can come back tomorrow if you're too busy." She offered. "I'm a little overgeared for engineering work." She motioned to the hand cannon - _Malfeasance_ , holstered at her tight and the sniper - _Beloved_ , at her back.

He looked at none of those. "Yeah, you're dressing too much for my likes." He licked his dry lips and got up, closing the hatch with his foot and going for the workbench to clean his hands and forehead with a dirty rag. "Bathroom's electricity has been funny this days, old wires needed change and repair." He explained. "Just needed to figure out the source."

"Well, I know nothing about ship maintenance. How'd do that?" She carefully leaned Beloved and her sword against a crate and placed Malfeasance over it.

He laughed, pointing to a corner. "The Ghost scanned the ship and found the problem, I just fix it."

She looked at his Ghost, black shell, red eye. It felt different from hers. Changed. He never showed it around, hell there were people that didn't even know about his Light. The Ghost nodded in a greeting. Couldn't it talk? She wouldn't dare to ask. She acknowledged his movement and it disappeared.

"Drifter, what-"

"That's none of your business, hotshot." He said while placing his headband back, predicting her question. "I didn't called you here for that, or engineering work." His smile was back. "I said I got ya a trinket, right?" He passed through her, the small room had barely enough space for them. He smelled like ashes and cheap whiskey, and she found that intoxicating. "You can leave your weapons, I'll have Ghost transmat them to your place. Come along." She placed her helmet and gloves near her weapons and followed him.

The Derelict was not a big ship, and sure it has seen better days, but it was so… Drifter. He had the essential only, and salvages. A lot of them, but only those in decent shape, worth using. More than once he asked her to bring stuff from the places she traveled. She thought of really taking him to an old Warmind vault, but that was a free argument with The Vanguard she was not willing to have. She passed some Vanguard crates along with some with Spider's mark and smiled. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

They soon arrived at, what she guessed it was, his kitchen. There was an old coffee machine and some kind of oven, along with some old balcony. She was really impressed he had a couch and in a pretty good shape, but no table or chairs. While she analyzed his place, he got her gift.

"Close your eyes, 'kay?" He said behind her, too close. She shut them in a sec. He placed something around her neck and tied, she couldn't guess what it was, it rested over her robes. He tapped her shoulders and she opened her eyes, watching him pass by her and drop on the couch.

She placed her hand over her neck, looking for whatever he had placed there, she found a thin leather strap, following it with her fingers she got to the pendant: a small sized jade coin.

When Drifter saw her smile he felt something drop. It was too pure, too vulnerable. No one should see that side of anyone, especially not him. He watched her touch the pendant, engraved with the same snakes on his own, and close it around her hand, smile never leaving her lips. He held his breath, he wanted to take that smile off her face, she needed to keep that for someone else, he only wanted those lips swollen and needy.

"I know it's not worthy of your Guardian types, but think of it as a _thank you_ gift." He said before his mind started to wonder. "You helped me with some shit none would be willing to mess, and that needs to be recognized."

"Shut up." Her voice was tender, almost surprised and something inside him warmed. She leaned against the bench. "It's perfect. Thank you." Again with that smile. Drifter shifted on the couch a warning ringing on his head about _that_ smile. "If I say I'll wear it under my robes, will you cry?" She mocked with the sweetest face. _Damn_.

He laughed. "No, not cry. But I'll remember that."

"Don't think this will save you from taking me to dinner!" They both shared a laugh, when it died an awkward silence took place. It was the first time it happened.

"So…" Drifter was the first to speak. "Haven't seen you on Gambit these days. Vanguard's keeping you busy?"

She swallowed. She couldn't measure how much she didn't want to answer that question. How was she supposed to say she was avoiding him so she could cool her head and stop being horny for him all the time? How could she say she volunteered for extra work to have an excuse to be tired and not drop by? And how could she admit that none of that worked and she still fantasized about him?

"Something like that, yes." She tried poorly. "The Vanguard's full of work recently." It wasn't getting any better. "I needed the glimmer." That was really messy. She could get more glimmer on Gambit than on any patrol work. Drifter noted and pointed that. She bit her lip, nervously. _Take the leap_. "Also… I needed to clear my head, too much stuff going on."

"Is it Cayde? You are restoring his weapon, right?"

"Not only that." She wish it was. "I… Some things happened that keeps distracting me…" She looked at her feet. "I need to keep my mind occupied… Otherwise it'll _drift_."

The image of him laughing his ass off and saying she had her head too much in their game lingered, she blushed but thank the gods for her colored skin, a lump formed in her throat when she saw him shift again on the couch and adjust his pants, again not hiding his growing excitement.

"Tell me." Hungry eyes watched her every move, it was not a request.

"What?" She asked instinctively, he wouldn't answer that. Tightening her hold on the edge of the balcony, she looked back at her feet.

"Look at me." Another demand.

She was feeling her own excitement escalate real quick, her face was warm and her body weird. More feelings than she could name. She looked at him again, her own blue against his. It never felt more challenging.

"It's not a complete thought, just images. It's messy." _Liar_. "There are hands over me, possessing me, I can't move, just… Enjoy." That was lame and she felt embarrassed. She took a deep breath. "It's overwhelming, It's something I ached for a while, and suddenly it's there, all that pleasure at once… _in all the right places_."

He watched her bite her lower lip, clearly embarrassed. She was an awful liar. They've been at that dance for a while now and they hid their actual lust behind jokes and playful banters. It was time to get their prizes.

"Ya need some lesson on how to lie, hotshot." He teased with his usual smile. "Not that I didn't like to see you struggling, but you can't lie to a lier." He pointed to himself and sighed. "Look, we both know how we are right now, what we _want_ , but I need to ask: you sure 'bout this? I know how you Guardians need to keep up appearances and your Vanguard's not gonna like you screwing around with my type."

She thought she would hear that from anyone, except for him. For a moment she thought about getting angry, but soon realised he was worried. He really wanted to have her around _and_ keep his business where it was. Greedy fucker.

"The Vanguard has nothing to do with this." She waved a hand dismissively. "And I thought you would like the gossip about the infamous rouge Drifter corrupting the purity of the Hero of the Red War." She poorly dramatized the sentence, which had Drifter laughing loudly. "We're crew now, the Vanguard is barely walking, I can't give a shit about it."

"Hm, tempting words. I like it, but I need to stay here for the time being. Can't have mine or your ass kicked just because we're horny." He winked playfully at her.

She bit her lower lip thoughtfully, he was right, although she was pretty certain nothing would happen to her except a scolding and "let this serve as an example" from Zavala, the Vanguard barely tolerated Drifter. The Praxic Order was on his tail and gods know what else. She also wouldn't want to see him go. It wasn't supposed to be this hard.

While she drove in dilemma, he approached her, touching the pendant on her chest and, for her surprise, tenderly caressing her face.

"Never heard your answer."

"Of course I'm sure, but seeing things this way now… I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it all."

He still held her pendant, like stuck on a thought he didn't had before. He smiled absently, his hungry eyes back at staring her.

"You said we're crew now, huh?" He passed a thumb over her lower lip.

" _You_ said it first. That changes something?"

"Yeah."

He kissed her. First gently, as if testing how serious this was going to be, tasting her lips and teasing her tongue, provoking to see how much she could be under his command. His slow pace was erotic, he took his sweet time exploring her mouth and what state he could left her with just a kiss, but she wanted more, she wanted to melt under him. Her hand fisted his hair, if he wasn't going to change, she would take the reins. She moaned softly while deepening the kiss, holding his head in place and moving as she liked. His lips shaped a smile under hers and she pulled back.

"Greedy, aren't we?" Drifter looked at her: mildly panting, eyes dark, cheeks flustered; a luscious sigh.

"You bet. We've danced enough." She rubbed his crotch, proving her point with his excitement.

"Hm, so can I say I had you _wondering_ about me?" He said near her ear, lightly biting it. She answered a low 'yes'. "When?" His demanding voice sent shivers all along her body.

"In the shower…" She started while he busied himself with her neck. "In my bed… Ah!" She flinched when he bit a spot in the curve of her neck. "Probably all around my apartment." She felt his tongue travel the same way his lips made and that was making her _burn_. "I'm sure I wasn't the only one." She managed to say under heavy breathing, still caressing his pants.

He smiled against her skin. "Yeah, you're not. Ship gotta a lot of places and I like to watch you." The mere thought of him watching her in a match and being too horny to wait till the end was pure erotic in her head. She threw her head back, giving him full access to her neck. He ravished it deliciously.

"Gods, you're wearing way too much." He breathed in her neck, near the collar of her robe, one hand tracing the shape of her jaw. He parted with her neck almost forcefully, and said in a hoarse voice. "Let's get outta here."

Drifter pulled her to his room, where a bed and a crate were the only decoration. She couldn't help a laugh.

"Hey, you actually have a bed! And a couch. Looks like someone is really meaning to stay around." Of course he would have a decent bed and not only that container near the transmat area, but the thought of him using this one instead of the other never crossed her mind. "Thought you lived in that cold shackle near The Haul."

He slapped her ass after closing the metal door. "Keep mocking and I'll fuck you on the floor, hotshot." He fisted her hair, pulling it down and pressed their bodies together, she could feel his excitement against her back and it was delightful.

"What are my other options?" She teased, trying her best to look at his face.

"You do as I say and you'll become a hot mess in my sheets." That voice, that dark and lustful and serious voice teared down any defenses she might've had up. She fantasized about that, about how he would bring her to the edge with just his words, how he would command her body to be at his bidding. In that moment she knew she was done for.

With his free hand, Drifter caressed her body through her robes, like trying to guess a present for its package, normally their wearing didn't show skin, so it was all going to be a big discovery. He occupied her lips once again in a possessive kiss, while feeling her neck, her breasts, her belly and teasing her sex. She moaned in his mouth, pressing her body closer to his and teasing him back.

She was almost breathless, his grip on her hair verging on pain, but he showed no indication to stop, his tongue dancing beautifully along hers, her lips following his every movement. While he melted her, he managed to unbuckle her belt, tossing it on the floor and working the buttons on her pants. He touched her, too impatient to wait for anything else, and was rewarded with another moan, stronger, but muffled by his mouth. He smiled over her lips and freed her voice, going for her breasts and groping one of them. She partly muffled another moan by biting her lower lip, but his hand on her pants was making it all too difficult.

"No need to be shy here, hotshot."

Her "nickname" sounded more erotic than she thought, the moan that left her lips dripped in pleasure and sent a warm weight to her stomach. Drifter was really pleased with her reactions, and how she was slowly becoming a mess, her body fully leaned over his, completely at his mercy, and no resistance. His hands were not gentle, he played with her body like he wanted to, and when he had enough of her covered skin he ordered her.

"Take this off." He tugged at the robe's collar. She tried to regain her posture but he pinched her sex, sending, what she could only describe as electricity all up her body. She meant to scream in pain, but only a moan echoed in the room. "Never said you could leave. Unbutton this robe or I'll tear it apart." He almost growled in her ear, resuming his work on her, she was wetter, his fingers slid easily around her. She _liked_ that.

"Fucking perv." She said under a smug, going for the side buttons on her robes and working them out.

As soon it was opened he helped her out of it, leaving her only with the shirt underneath it. She turned to him, taking his lips again - _gods_ she could not get enough of his kisses! She took his headband off, and pushed his tank top up, when he didn't move his arms, she backed.

"A piece for a piece."

Drifter held her hand, a dark smile on his lips. "You don't make demands here." She lowered her hands and he finished taking off the shirt. "But I'll let you have this one."

She didn't have time to admire his body, he pushed her to the bed until her calves hit the edge and she was forced to sit. He pushed her pants and underwear down, not bothering going all the way and pulled her hips to him. Drifter looked at her swollen lips and flustered cheeks and rubbed himself over his pants, right in front of her face. She licked her lips and looked up to him, almost pleading.

"You'll have to deserve it." He caressed her cheek and kissed her again.

The kiss stopped as soon as it started, Drifter dropped on his knees between her legs and his mouth disappeared. She moaned loudly, instantly fisting his hair for some kind of support. He started tentatively, tasting her like some delicacy, parting her lips with his tongue and using his hands to hold it open like he wanted. Suddenly he was everywhere, teasing her, exploring her sensitivity and learning her body. He gave her open mouth kisses, small and rough bites, you name it, but when he fully committed she lost it. It was intense, his hands adjusted so he could have all access and she felt exposed and excited. He wasn't afraid of being messy or indecent as he worked around that tiny bud of nerves that made her voice ever higher. The tug on the sheets felt like an anchor, she could feel all his movements and it was _so good_ , she wasn't even aware if she was pulling his hair to hold him in place or to bury him in her tights, her hips tried to meet his movements, feeling the ticklish sensation of his beard against her skin. Heat were starting to build and she could feel her energy losing control like she needed to explode, she threw her head back, the tingling sensation of void energy on the tip of her fingers and under her skin felt like electricity as she finished in his mouth.

Drifter was regaining his breath, lips glistening with her fluids. He felt it, her energy losing control and intensifying her sensations, his own reacted to it, seeking it. He licked his lips and got up, replacing his mouth with his hand in feathery, light touches, only a tease.

"You… Fucking… Bastard!" She cursed him, dropping on the bed.

"I need you naked." He stepped back, she had a defiant look on, but did as ordered, kicking her pants and boots and taking off her shirt and bra. While she did that, he unbuckled his belt and took off the rest of his clothes.

He whistled when saw her body: obviously defined and surprisingly curvy, her skin seemed so soft, he just wanted to lick every inch of it. She arranged something on her neck and the small pendant rested almost between her breasts. Drifter could very well have growled because what passed through his mind screamed primal. Suddenly he wanted to _own_ her, to mark all of her body so everyone would know who she belonged. Make no mistakes, he was not that primitive, but something inside him twisted to the wrong (or right) side and he just wanted to brand her his.

His scars made hers look like scratches, he clearly healed them the old way and they were _so many_ , all sizes and shapes (she clearly saw one that looked like a bite and made a mental note to ask about that later). He was defined, for someone who ate like he did it was really something, and the black hair trail down his belly was almost sinful. She watched the intensity of his gaze, and without asking, opened her mouth.

Drifter fisted himself a few times, again ordering her to look at him. Without stopping he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her lower lip and invading her mouth. She involved it with her tongue and he soon replaced it for two fingers. They danced with her tongue, making a mess of saliva that dripped over her chest, as usual there was a roughness on him that made her whole body tremble in anticipation. Just that had her panting.

"Look at ya." He started, teasing her mouth with just the tip, she tried to reach it with her tongue. "Who would've thought the mighty Hero of the Red War could be broken so easily…" He took his fingers off her mouth and spread the saliva along his length.

She knew what he was doing, but couldn't help getting angry. Why bring that over here? She reached for him replacing his hands for hers.

"And what does this" she slowly stroke him, hard as a rock. "says about you, _Dredgen_?" Her lips took him and he held his breath, so warm, so soft… How much could she take in one go? He wanted to feel the end of her throat and hear her muzzled sounds against him. It took all of his might to stop her.

"This says I'm about to fuck you senseless, hotshot." He said regaining his composure and passing his tongue over her lips. "I'll save that for later."

He kissed her again, towering over her until she was leaned back on the bed under him, a few adjustments and he was between her legs. Now that he had access to all her body, he went back to ravish her already bruised neck, leaving a trail of purple-ish marks down to her breasts, he was sure to be a dead man when she realised that. For now she was too absorbed in her own pleasure to notice anything beyond the burning sensation of his lips and the tingling under her skin where her Light reacted to his. He cupped her breasts, licking, sucking and biting the sensitive skin, almost admired how they fit perfectly in his mouth and sensing how his back gained new marks of her nails scratching it, trying to bury herself in his touches.

He stopped for a moment, licking his fingers and roughly inserting them - two at first, followed by a third when he heard no complains - inside her, biting hard on her nipple. Her back arched and she let out a loud, shameless moan. This seemed to make her understand she was at his mercy now, no turning back, no demands, no sassy comebacks. She held his arms for support, opening her legs more and thrusting her hips to meet his pace. Drifter had a darkly proud smile on his lips, admiring his work. He knew she was still sensitive after that orgasm and would make the better of it, moving his fingers in a "come here" motion, applying pressure just enough for her to start shaking. And before she could delve into that, his hands were off and he buried himself inside, all the way in one stoic move, drinking in the sensation he would never admit he missed. This time he actually growled, feeling the urge to pound her senseless.

She wasn't aware of her voice anymore, nor her surroundings, her sight was not to be trusted as she got glimpses of blue sheets and messy hair all the time. She had no control and no other will than to be at his mercy, her mind had absolutely no other thought than a trail of curses and how she _wanted_ that. As if reading her thoughts he started pounding into her, mercilessly, and her heat began to build again, faster and wilder.

Drifter had the most powerful woman in the system at his mercy. Willingly. Had his name said like a plea in a situation none of her stupid admirers could imagine her. For his own surprise he was basking in that feeling, he never cared for that, she was an amazing (and hot) woman before she was a Guardian, he desired her, her body and her company, and the way those needs seemed natural around her, made him doubtful of his own mind.

His pace was becoming erratic, her body more sensitive as they both felt their apex closer. His hand traveled up her body, touching her necklace and she instantly gave access to her throat. He didn't have to think about it when he embraced that delicate skin with pressure, feeling her body spasm under his. The air was heavy now but she didn't need it, she was gripping something, but didn't know what, the only thing she was aware of was Drifter's deep voice moaning and growling and her throbbing need for release. He was hitting all the right places, her body was spasming again, but something was missing,

"What ya need, hm?" He leaned towards her, saying against her cheek. "You'll have to tell me." His thrust were slower, but any less deeper.

The grip in her throat loosened a bit, allowing fresh air so she could talk. Could she? She bit her lower lip, adjusting her hips to guide him to her sweet spot, frowning when he stopped going all the way.

"You fucker…!" She managed, he scoffed.

In a second he tightened his hand again, breathing hardly on her neck.

"I'll _own_ ya. I'll own _your_ body." He punctuated the words going harder against her. "You'll cum by my command, you understand?"

He lifted his torso to see her, her messy self, wanting, needing something only he could give to her now. She looked at him, blurred eyes intoxicated by deep pleasure. So submissive.

"Yes… Drifter, _please_! Let me!"

His name sounded like a new trigger for his pleasure, it wasn't supposed to sound that erotic. He wasn't supposed to want to hear it so badly. The deed was done and he was now trapped, he would hear this words echo in his ship and they would brand it in his head, adding more to his torments. He simply couldn't help it. So he did as pledged, pounding her exactly where she wanted.

"Yeah, cum."

Her body shook hard. Did words meant to have all that power? She saw white, and purple and black, gripping his arm to intensify his power over her. She didn't know that their Light could react to that, that she would carve his darkness with need and let it overpower her own. She drank in that while losing herself to her release, being forced back to senses when a painful pinch hit her, this time over her swollen clit. It was too much. She didn't know how to react. The sound that came of her mouth were unknown to her, primal, dominated by her overwhelming lust. She arched her back, pushing herself closer against him and cumming hard, tightening her grip around his hips and feeling his own release pulsing inside. It felt like minutes before she was able to grip reality again, feeling his warm fluids slowly oozing out of her and something wet, almost watery, dripping over his sheets.

"Would you look at that…" His tired voice reached her ears. "Can't say I don't keep my promises." He slowly left her, feeling the numbness of his tire starting to spread. She raised him a finger. "Can you sit?" She shook her head up and down, and he helped her up. "Clean your mess for me, would ya?"

Drifter guided her head lower and she, despite being dizzy from orgasm, opened her mouth, taking him whole and feeling his hard on fade. Her own taste with his were a curious combination, she couldn't even decide if it pleased her or not. She sucked him clean, slowly, and they both enjoyed the last of their wild lust fade. When she lifted up, he thanked her with a quick kiss.

"I hope you really don't mind about judging eyes." He touched her newly acquired marks with a proud smirk.

She followed his fingers. "They'll be a nice trinket. I was expecting to gain only the soreness tomorrow, this is a nice change."

He scoffed and looked at her, differently this time. She was an amazing woman, he was starting to think he could truly trust her. He downright admired her, when she all but told the Vanguard to fuck off and pursued vengeance on her own terms he almost offered his help. He knew she still had duties with the Vanguard but for the life of him, he also knew she was not bounded by them. He only hoped to be the side she would lean when her balance weighed.

After they both took a shower, she insisted on changing the messy sheets for some clean ones before… staying? Was it even a possibility? Wasn't it too much? They needed a signal for that, right? She sighed, too many questions, she went to get dressed, putting on only her underwear and pondering about it all.

"You don't have to go now if you don't want to." He said, his back to her as he looked for his underwear. He was struggling to address that matter as much as her, but she thought best to ignore that.

"What gave you that idea?" She scoffed with a smile. "I just changed your sheets, I was planning to kick you to the couch if you asked me to leave."

"Oh, you planned this ahead then? Cuddles and all?" He got under the sheets, waiting for her to join. She did, but no cuddling happened.

"Are we going to continue doing this?" She asked directly. There was no point in dwelling about this only inside her head.

"I'm game." He said while getting comfortable, placing an arm under his head and turning to her. "We'll be spending a lot of time together, we're _crew_ , right?"

A lump formed on her throat. That was probably the words she liked and hated most. They bonded them both with uncertainty, being able to lead to a misguided interpretation of their… relationship.

"Yeah… Hm… I don't want to assume anything, but… We're just fucking, ok?" She didn't want to sound doubtful of her feelings, so establishing a boundary seemed the right thing to do.

"Hell yes, hotshot. You do you, I do me and we do this. No need to name things." He answered casually. She let out a relieved sigh. "We're just company."

She swallowed, going for the sassy approach. " _You_ , enjoying the intimate company of a Guardian?" She whistled like he used to do, faking surprise. "That’s not the Drifter I know."

He laughed loudly “Hell, that’s not the Drifter _I_ know, hotshot!”

Besides his playful tone, he was serious. He could remember only one time he was that messed up with feelings, if there were any all and if his fucked up memory was correct, it didn't end well. He watched her go and the only thing he was able to do was to threaten her, to force himself to lock away whatever type of feeling he associated with their… _friendship_.

He was thinking too much, his head was starting to ache. "Go get some sleep." He said placing his arm over the eyes.

Without word, she turned her back to him and closed her eyes.

Like that they looked like completely normal people, the fate of world were not at their shoulders, their heads were not a prize anywhere. They couldn't decide which one was enjoying this more, none of them had that much spare time to play that kind of game often. Their encounters, if any at all, were meaningless, a relief of the flash, a prize only for the second part involved. Maybe that was why they could play it, they got to a consensus that required only the recognition of their most primal needs. Drifter would never admit he missed that, he was a busy man, fighting his own demons of old. The Guardian would never admit she looked for that, she was a model hero, and as far as she didn't like all the protocol and titles, she liked to be a symbol of hope.

In the middle of the night, he found her body and embraced it.

And they drifted towards eachother ever more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Kudos and comments are always welcome!!
> 
> I'm working on a second chapter but I'm a sloth, so bear with me? :)


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